You're an asshole, sir
by themotalroomsong
Summary: There's a turning moment of regret that you recognize just before a fight begins. It's that sinking feeling in your lower abdomen that tells you 'I shouldn't have done that'. boxing au. Romano is a fighter in the underground fight scene. Spamano fic along with a splash of gertia
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Hetalia.

* * *

The part of town where you really don't want to be at night, the area of the city that you only go to because you've been invited to see something 'special'. The large concrete building was dark and seemingly calm-on the outside. Underneath the first floor, not quite the basement, was a floor filled with contagious energy. People were buzzing in the stands spilling their drinks like barbarians and shouting like animals. In the center was something that resembled a pit, the audience was beginning to build a steady roar. A quick punch smack in the center of Romano's jaw. He stumbled back a foot or two before delivering a solid jab to his opponent's ribs, a loud crack sounded, he swung his fist back and slammed it into the others face with the strength that only a boxer could achieve. His opponent fell with a loud thud and the noise that the crowd was building up exploded, in the middle of so much attention he could only hear faint echoes. Romano stood in the center of the ring, full of adrenaline and completely focused. He looked down at the teen not much older than himself try to pick himself up, the crowd was really yelling now...one…two…three.. he counted in his head slowly. The strong build was doing nothing for the other teen. Now his muscles only succeeded in pulling him back to the ground. He could hear Feliciano cheering somewhere close by ...six...seven. "And it's a knock-out! " boomed the announcer, the man probably hadn't seen such a textbook knock-out in so long. Anyone with a good pair of eyes could see that the fighter would not be getting up. With that Romano made his way towards the thin wired gate that had boxed in the fighters. He allowed himself a discrete exhausted smile, more to himself than for the crowd.

Feliciano was standing by with a clean rag as soon as Romano stepped down from the ring.

"Fratello! You did great, maybe one day itll be both of us in there, right?" Feliciano joked, passing the rag to his brother who gladly took it and wiped the sweat from his face.

"Christ, no." replied the slightly older brother while opening the door to a semi packed locker room. The two walked down a narrow stretch of lockers before stopping at one. After fidgeting with his lock for a moment Romano opened up his locker and began to change out of his dirty clothes."I'd rather have you run off and join a hipster country band than fight in this shit-hole." he finally replied now fully clothed. Feliciano laughed once more, the comment wasnt exactly aimed for a harsh tone, but most likely Romano talking out of his ass for reputations sake. He seemed pretty tired. They both knew that Romano secretly loved the fights, they were the only way he could get his anger out of his system without being arrested. Not that the underground fight scene was any more legal, but at least this way the brothers got by a lot easier than a shitty job at a cafe.

"Ve ready to go, Roma?"

"Yea hold up. I gotta pick up my money from Yao."

The two brothers entered an office down the hall a floor up from the locker rooms and away from the chaos of the arena. You would have never guessed anything was amuck. Inside was an effeminate looking man behind a desk with a pile of envelopes and paperwork stacked high, standing next to him was one of Feliciano's friends that he had made while wandering around the building. "Kiku! I missed you so much, buddy!" Feliciano reached around the desk hugging the assistant. Feliciano was always up for public affection unlike Romano who tended to have a more prickly persona than most.

Yao turned to Romano "Good job today, Vargas, keep the knock-outs coming and we'll be selling out every night."

This is good thought Romano. Compliments didn't come easy, especially from Yao who's seen plenty of amuter fighters looking for easy pay by joining a fight night. When an occasional good word came out it meant more money in that envelope.

"Say thank you" Yao said holding out an envelope labeled Vargas.

"Uh, yea thanks." replied Romano, grabbing the money. "See you Monday Kiku, Ciao!" waved Feliciano.

Outside was cold and dark. Most people were long gone and eager to get home to their families. The fog had begun to set in making it easy pickings for late night thieves and sinister opportunists. Only elderly men playing a lazy game of cards on their porch were to be seen. Despite what the night reflected the younger of the two maintained a happy demeanour. Feliciano had the ability to talk for hours even if no one was particularly listening. Romano quietly appreciated this skill about his brother, especially on Saturday mornings when there was nothing to watch. But this wasn't a Saturday morning and was currently telling him to stop talking. Feliciano slowed down his tangent. "Ah-" he fiddled his thumbs "...by the way Grandpa said he can't pick us up" Feliciano mumbled out.

"What?"

"I thought you didn't want me to talk anymore-" he beamed.

"What the fuck. Are you saying that were gonna have to walk all the way home because Grandpa is dicking around!" Romano huffed. He was already pissed that he hadn't brought a better jacket.

"It's not that bad, Roma." Feliciano said opening up his backpack.

"Here! Grandpa did make a bunch of Carbonara before leaving. It's still kinda warm." he handed him a container of pasta filled to the brim.

"Yes! thank God." sighed Romano. Fight days meant being trapped in the building all night until your match started or waiting to fill in for another fighter if they got beat up too bad. In other words no time to go out and eat proper meal. Feliciano took out a jacket as well, putting it on while blowing warm air into the palm of his hands.

The brothers were crossing the street when a car zoomed past them just barely missing them, causing Romano to grab his brother and drop the food he had just been handed."Shit! are you kidding me?". Romano looked up at the speeding car locking eyes briefly with apologetic ones. He returned with ones of annoyance.

"Wonder what he was in a hurry for." chimed in Feliciano.

"What am I suppose to eat now?"cried out Romano.

"Hope he gets there on time.." Feliciano mumbled. "Damnit Feli! Worry about yourself."

After walking a few more blocks Feliciano had calmed Romano down, he was still hungry and Feliciano was beginning to feel the same. His stomach rumbled. "Hey Roma! Look a store, lets get something to eat! I kinda want some some wine." Feliciano pointed out a convenience store across the street.

"Feli we can't, this money is for the rent and all the other crap we need." He felt bad saying no.

"No problem!" Feliciano smiled and crossed the street towards the store. no no no Romano knew what he really meant. He walked faster to catch up with his brother. Feliciano had always been ballsier than him.

"Don't worry Roma. It'll be fine just follow me." Feliciano laughed.

"Put your hood on dumbass!" he hissed while putting on his own. "Oh yeah."

They walked in heads down. "Remember I want wine." Feliciano whispered once they were at the back of the convenience store near the chips and refrigerated drinks. Feliciano took off his backpack and handed it to Romano and walked to the front of the store. The only person that Feliciano could see working was a rather large intimidating blond man at the register. The blond man was watching the camera monitors intently, arms crossed, back straight. eeeh hes kinda scary isnt he? He thought a little nervous now. Hope this works!

Feliciano looked back to his brother who was still at the back of the store. Romano gave a very small nod signaling that he was ready for whatever Feliciano had planned. Feliciano took a deep breath and coughed.

He coughed harshly. He coughed again-loudly. The man looked his way now.. and away from the camera monitors.

He coughed again bringing his hand to his chest as if to catch his breath. Another set of coughs sprang from him each more throaty and labored than the last."U-uh, are you alright?". The man was getting up from behind the register, looking like he wanted to help but not exactly sure what to do. Feliciano could see Romano moving around in his peripheral vision.

Since his brother Gilbert was out at Francis house having a welcome home party for one of his friends, Ludwig had to manage the store for the night. He had finished his school work long ago, which meant that all he had to do was watch the camera monitors. 'Make sure no one steals anything, Ludwig' was all that Gilbert expected of him.

He looked down at his watch to check the time, it read 1:34 A.M in a mechanic neon green.

Ludwig felt a slight breeze. Two guys came in, both wearing hoodies and one with a backpack.. mein Gott the last thing we need is another robbery, he thought as one of the two started walking over towards the register.

He was ready to grab the cross tire hidden underneath the register before the guy stopped abruptly. And started coughing… and then didn't stop.

"U-uh, are you alright?." He hesitantly got up from behind the counter.

The guy was really hacking now, he held one hand out, as if asking for help before another wave of coughs wracked his body. He fell to the floor, his hand was clutching at his chest and curled inwards.

"Hey! What's wrong do you want me to call an ambulance? Talk to me!" Ludwig said a little panicked. He got down to the floor leaning over him to see if he was even breathing.

"Do you have Asth-", CRASH.

.

.

* * *

"Damn…". Romano hissed. He had dropped one of the wine bottles.

Feliciano looked up from the floor at his brother and muffled a laugh into his hand. The blond snapped his head back down at him. "YOU-".

"Andiamo!" Romano yelled at him. Feliciano didn't need to be told twice. Romano rushed forward grabbing his by the arm while pushing the blond out of the way. They ran out of the store and down into the foggy street until their lungs burned. A good couple of blocks away the brothers began to slow down. The siblings leaned against an out of order vending machine. Feliciano pulled out one of the stolen bottles of cheap wine and took a swig. "Haha! Roma you got to admit that that was just a teeny bit fun?" he said passing the bottle. "God no, your just lucky the guy thought you were dying or something" Feliciano flushed. " ve...That guy must have been real dense. Anyone who's ever worked at liquor store should have been able to tell what we were doing. " Romano inhaled the distinct smell of the bottle, admiring the familiarity that came with the pungent scent. He tipped the bottle back and took a few satisfying gulps. Romano felt good, well he always felt better after a successful fighting day. They were almost home just a few blocks away from their small italian neighborhood, the bus would have been an easier way to get home but the bus that the siblings would have taken had been down for weeks. No news of repairing or even reliable schedule times for a replacement shuttle was to be heard of. Lately in the city money was spent on more important things-not fixing bus lines on the 'bad' side of town.

The Vargas brothers lived with their unusually handsome grandfather in an apartment above a russian bakery. Their neighborhood was a fairly close community, most had been living in the same homes and owned the same small business for years. The boarding house that they lived in had quite a diverse group of occupants despite the men living in a primarily Italian neighborhood. Most of the residents of the area had rather eccentric personalities and meant having to handle the energy that buzzed around. Including Francis and his late night parties. For whatever reason the frenchmen was going all out on this one, the brothers could see light flashing from the windows and could practically feel the vibrations of music from the sidewalk.

"Im not drunk enough to put up with this bullshit."Romano puffed some warm air into his palms.

"Ve~ I am!" Feliciano skipped up the steps and unlocked the door. Immediate chaos party guests were sucking face and dancing in the hallway making the already small walkway smaller. Hercules cats were everywhere. From down the hall Romano could hear Roderich was playing "Kupelwieser-Walzer" on his piano as loud as he possibly could. "Eeew..!" Romano glanced behind over his shoulder someone had thrown up on Feliciano's shoe.

Well this is fucking annoying, Romano could practically feel himself getting angrier by the second. On top of it the other tenants Arthur and Elizaveta both decided to make their complaints heard-by banging on the frenchman's door. The two were yelling profanities and making promising threats. Francis parties did have a tendency to get a bit out of control especially when his friend Gilbert was over. This was just ridiculous though.

"Romano-baby!" Elizaveta finally noticed his presence and approached him. She was gripping a frying pan."Get Francis out here and kick his ass." She said seriously and now was gripping shoulders tightly. "You know I'd do it but the kindergarten found out about my last assault charge and I can't afford to lose this job!" Elizaveta pleaded.

"Kitty!" Feliciano cheered from behind them. The man causing so much hate emerged from his door. "I am far too gorgeous to have been in a stuffy room for so long." responded Francis to one of Arthur's comments.

"I am far too gorgeous to- Shut up Francis!" mocked Arthur. Romano stepped over a drunken body and looked back at his brother. "Feli!" he yelled getting his attention. "ve?"Feliciano responded, still playing with the cat. "Go to the apartment, I'll be there in a second."

"Can I bring the kitty?"

"oh my god.. sure! just go home." Romano waited until Feliciano was out of sight. He walked to the doorway and stood standing in front of Francis. Arthur and Elizaveta watched behind him like a highschool possy about to make a point.

"Alright, asshole." he slurred "Turn the music down. And either get your drunks in your apartment or on the street!" just towards the end, Romano began to realize that he was probably more drunk than what he was leading on. Francis must have noticed this because he leaned over him slowly "Aw. Look at your face its getting red. Have you been drinking? I know how you boys love your wine." He tilted Romano's chin with a the slide of a finger leaning Romano's face to his face. "So handsome but undoubtedly cute!" Francis glanced over to Arthur and winked.

"This weatherman is predicting a shit-storm..."

"wha-?"

"And it's coming right at you, bitch!"

Maybe I am drunk Romano thought. Regardless he grabbed the frying pan in Elizaveta hand and hit Francis square on the shoulder.

Francis grasped his shoulder in pain, stumbling to hold the doorway before falling to the ground. Romano could hear Arthur cracking up loudly behind him.

"Thank you, honey." Elizaveta patted his back.

Romano walked up the staircase taking a cat on the way.

Feliciano was rolling in his sheets by the time Romano got to the apartment. It was small a apartment in the coziest way possible. The two brothers and their grandfather respected whatever they were given, they didn't complain about the american styled home or the leaky sink pipe or the fact that the two only windows they had were painted shut or the ugly textured walls or even the piss poor excuse for a laundry room. Nope, no sir they did not. "damn, I forgot to clean the kitchen again." eh. I'll just do it tomorrow. They kept their humble apartment as clean as possible-they were gentlemen after all. No doubt, this was their home and it felt safe. Feliciano and Romano shared a room since they were small. One side was filled with Feliciano's schoolwork and paintings while Romano's side was a bit more bare, though it always managed to look much messier. Romano spent more time in the living room with the T.V, if he wasn't out working. Grandpa's room was across from them, the living room and kitchenette separated them.

.

.

.

.

* * *

"Romano?"

"Yea.."

"Kiku says a new set of fighters are coming in this week, is that true?"

"I think so."

"yay! Arent you nervous of the new fighters?"

"Why whould I? Im the best at what I do. No ones gonna take it away from me."

"I believe you."


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Hetalia.

* * *

Antonio woke up without a shirt and on his back. The first thing he smelled was Jager and red bull emanating from Gilbert whose head was resting on his stomach. Oh would you look at that I'm on the floor. He more or less shoved Gilbert off of him and got up to his feet. Antonio stretched his arms above his head, giving out a long yawn, the old wooden floor felt cool on his bare feet. All around him were empty red cups that were once filled with various types of alcohol and people sleeping in bent, awkward positions. Antonio made his way to the toilet located in Francis room. Turns out Francis room was just as trashed as the living room, he scanned the area for his suitcase and took out a toothbrush before disappearing into the bathroom. Sure he felt like crap and almost nauseated enough to throw up, but that didn't stop him from looking in the mirror flexing his arms and appreciating his body. Nothing wrong with confidence. He splashed water on his face and grinned. There was a lot to be happy about.

Last night was a night that Antonio had been waiting a while for.

For the last five years he had been living in Madrid with his family. Antonios family moved to America when he was six and would stay for the next ten years, his mother and father opened up a small restaurant near the industrial district. He was enrolled into St. Matthews Language Immersion School. At the school Antonio became fluent in English… this is also where he met the frenchman Francis and the albino german Gilbert, although neither of them were really in the same classes they became good friends anyway. Most of the other kids stuck with peers of the same language. And there was nothing wrong with that! But you could say that trouble had no language barriers and the trio had no problem finding that. Of course the three moved on to highschool together, they frolicked through puberty making many great stories in the process. Unfortunately good things do not last forever, reality flashed very quickly. The restaurant's business slowed and less customers came through, Antonio's parents closed down the restaurant. The Carriedo family would be moving back to Spain. Francis and Gilbert were torn by the news but vowed that they'd see each other again eventually.

Eventually came five and a half years later when Francis bragged to Antonio over the phone about getting his own apartment joking that Antonio should get his ass outta Spain and come live with him.

.

.

But thats exactly what he did.

**.**

After six months of planning and waiting Antonio finally arrived at the airport awaiting to be picked up by his old friend Gilbert, who was hopelessly drunk upon arrival. His friend was exactly the same but in the best way one could hope for. Gilbert immediately threw the keys in his lap and told him to drive sense he was already wasted.

He felt like he was going on a sleepover for the first time, he couldn't help but be excited for his new life in the city even if he wasn't sure where exactly he was going. At one point Gilbert slammed the gas pedal screaming something like 'we are the armada'. Almost causing him to collide with two guys trying to cross the street. They made it to Francis(and now his) apartment in one piece. The rest of the night was spent drinking and partying-but mostly drinking. Antonio remembered making out with some dude but everything after that was a blur.

"Oi Toni! Is this your shirt?" Francis yelled from somewhere in the hallway.

"Quiet Franny! Awesome me needs to sleep!" He could hear a can being thrown. "Ow..!"

Antonio stepped out of the bathroom and into the living room.

"Mon ami!" screeched Francis, pulling him into a tight hug.

Gilbert picked himself up from the floor

"Toni! When did you get here?"

Antonio scratched his head "You picked me up from the airport yesterday." he said with a laugh.

Francis and Gilbert pulled away from him, taking a step back. Francis arched his eyebrow and raised a hand to his mouth. Gilbert crossed his arms and gave him a quizzical look.

"..uh guys?" he asked slowly.

They looked Antonio up and down a few times.

"Aww look at our little Antonio, all grown up!" They cooed in unison looking at each other.

"I mean damn, look at those abs~!"

"Holy shit! You totally got some last night didn't you?"

Ah, It was good to be home.

.

.

.

* * *

The trio set up a hangover food spread and took turns kicking people out of the apartment. Gilbert sat across from him at the table while Francis stood up getting him to speed on the current living situation. "So I shouldn't piss off...Arthur?" Antonio asked trying to remember names of the other tenants.

"No! Don't piss off Roderich because he owns the building, you can piss off Arthur all you want. In fact do your best to get him to move." corrected Francis with a splay of the wrist.

"Oh yea!" Gilbert said quickly. "Do not get involved with the family that owns the bakery. Under no circumstance, they're some crazy fuckers!"

Antonio sipped some orange juice"They can't be that bad, guys."

"Oh hon but they are my friend-!" Francis sighed like he was talking to a little kid, sometimes explaining things to Antonio was like explaining something to a little kid.

Gilbert stood up and walked behind Antonio and put a hand on his shoulder."Let me tell you a little story Toni."

He looked like he was remembering something that he deeply regretted.

"So, Ivan is like a freakin psychopath, man!" Gilbert started off, sounding more like he was defending himself rather than actually beginning a story.

"p-ppff!"

"Shut up! He is!"

Francis was working hard to muffle his laughter.

"You see Toni, our Gilbird here tried to get intimate with one of the bakers sisters."he paused a moment to catch his breath"...and for the next week and half Ivan kept sending him packages of bread filled with bloody tampons-haha!" Francis finished for him.

"Mein gott they smelled like shit!"

"P-PFFF!" Antonio couldn't help it either.

"Alright I won't go to the bakery" he concluded with a bright smile.

It was already midday by the time Antonio got up to speed on the names of everybody else in the building. There were only two people he really didn't know much about, and that was the mellowed out cat guy and the as Francis put them 'hot italian family upstairs'. Antonio would be staying in the room across from Francis, they would both split the rent.

"Antonio remember I hooked you up with this totally kickass job, the interview is on Sunday!" Gilbert was getting ready to head home.

"Really! Wow so fast, what kind of job is it?" Antonio asked enthusiastically. He was happy that Gilbert already had a job set up for him. Even though he was already planning on getting a waiting job at a restaurant, temporarily of course. Gilbert shushed him and put a finger to his lips.

"Don't question gifts!" and with that Gilbert exited the apartment. Antonio looked at Francis.

"I'm sure it's a good job mon, ami."

Antonio and Francis spent a good chunk of time cleaning out Antonio's new living space before moving any items from the moving van. It was around five in the afternoon when the newly united friends began unloading the car, It was around five-thirty in the afternoon when the two realized that they and the couch were stuck in the front door. They had to admit that moving the largest piece of furniture(aside from the bed) was a bad move on their part.

"Francis!" a voice grabbed the friends attention. Antonio couldn't help but stare, the guy was pretty cute to be honest. From the stray hair that curled inward to the energy that just poured out if him. His name was-

"Feliciano! Nice to meet you Antonio!" Feliciano smiled and put a hand out. oh so he must be from the family upstairs...he has a sister right?

Feliciano had just came back from school. Usually Romano would meet him at the campus where they would get dinner or catch a movie but Romano hadn't show up. Hadn't even called. He didn't worry about it, Romano was probably doing something important. Feliciano was about to open the door but stopped when he noticed that Francis and another man were stuck in the door.

"Francis!"

"Bonjour Feli! This is my new roommate and good friend Antonio!" Francis explained

"Oh well I'm Feliciano! Nice to meet you Antonio!" and the rest was history.

Ve, where is Romano anyway?

"What do you mean I can't start now? It's fucking school!" Romano was trying to not get too pissed-he really was. From the moment that baby on the bus spit up on him to the weather taking a turn for the worst. His patience was wearing thin.

"Well technically you can start anytime you want, but all classes have began" the young man at the desk leaned back in his chair and sighed. The man was reading a magazine and practically ignoring him.

Romano closed his eyes shut for a second and inhaled a fresh breath of air

"but I want to start this fall, I already made my BMCC email-" Romano tried.

"Nope. Sorry if you wanted to start in the Fall then you should have started the process in May" The man concluded.

really? He would've seethed.

Romano could feel a break. He wanted to beat the shit out of this man. He had spent hours trying to make sense of the enrollment process. It was practically midnight by the time he was even able to create that damn email. Only for him to go all across the city to this empty, tiny-ass office and be treated like some idiot. He didn't want to be here. He was suppose to meet up with Feliciano to eat dinner...Romano did the only thing a frustrated italian man could do.

He wildly moved his hands around and shouted profanities.

"Shut the fuck up asshole! Im not the one behind a desk all day like somebody's bitch!" Romano violently kicked a waiting room chair. The man looked up.

"sir!-" Romano grabbed the front of the mans shirt and shoved him back into his chair forcefully enough to topple the man over to the floor on. He starred his back.

"VAFFANCULO!" Romano grabbed the cup full of pens that said: the tassels worth the hassle.

"and now I have your pens!"

Romano wasn't going to lie, he did feel pretty shitty. He was on the late night bus heading home now. The illuminant light of the bus flared in his face.

Feliciano was in school, and he was holding up. He just wanted some basic schooling so that he could get a 'real' job. Yes the boxing paid a shit load but for how long? Until a better fighter stepped up? Until he got beaten up so bad that it couldn't be an option anymore?

Romano looked up from his lap. Across from him was a little kid and his mother. Romanos eyebrows furrowed palms started to sweat. In the kids lap was a turtle that his mother probably just bought him. Oh god I really don't like turtles. There was something about turtles that he never really liked- well he could say that about a lot of things. Romano felt like turtles were so easy to break especially in the care of a small child. The scenario of the boy playing with the turtle rough enough to crush it's shell flashed in his brain. He was without a doubt a scaredy cat despite his demeanor. But its not like he'd let anyone know that. The fact that the kid was starting to pick his nose didn't help his suspicions either.

Nose.

Turtle.

Nose.

Turtle.

Nose.

Turtle.

turtle.

"Hey! Lovino is that you? Oh god no way!" Romano looked up abruptly. It was a beautiful girl that had been old friends with from middle school, back when he had just began digging into the whole 'getting into trouble' thing; that was until Romano realized he wasn't good at getting out of it. Romano smiled. Though the person in front of him could be more accurately described as a young woman and not a 'girl' in anyway. No those hips said anything but girl. Taking note of that Romano tilted his head and spread his mouth into smile that could easily be described as comfortably charming.

"Marcella."

Romano finally got home around midnight, he thought it was weird that the front door had scrape marks. The wood was splintered, it as if a toddler tried fitting the square block in the circle hole...

Marks continued up the stairs and stopped right at Francis door. Guy's a drunk who knows what shit he does in his spare time. Romano quietly made his way to the apartment, trying his best to make sure the keys didn't rattle too loudly. Of course the T.V was on(with no sound) and Grandpa was sprawled across the sofa snoring fairly loudly.

Happy to finally be home, the first thing he did was strip and collapse on the bed. The sheets felt fluffy and soft. "Haha, such a sweetheart i've been working at this new job. Lot's of money. Here take this in case you ever want in on it." she slipped a piece of paper into Romano's hand. In bulky capital letters were the words: Snow laundry Inc.

The day didn't feel like a total waste anymore, at least he had a job to fall back on in case worst came to worst.

Unlike Feli he had dropped out of school once he realized that he wasn't going to graduate. Romano remembered the day he told Grandpa that. It was the first time anyone had seen the man so mad, he was always a happy smiling person.

Romano, stared at the crack in the wall. He kicked it in on graduation day. He remembered feeling scared because he had absolutely no clue what he was going to do with himself. Graduating high school was something that everyone expects to just happen, and then you move on. You get the job in something your qualified in and have a family.. or something. It was suppose to be easy enough to make it through. That was before though.

That didn't matter anymore he couldn't change it now.

Besides, he knew how to take care of himself.


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own Hetalia.

Francis was not dumb, although at times his lavish and quite careless lifestyle would contradict this.

But no.

Francis knew that Gilbert had been involved with some sketchy stuff. He honestly didn't mind but he wasn't exactly expecting this. Naturally the dirty blond assumed that Antonio would feel the same-apparently not.

The three had arrived about forty minutes earlier in Francis's car and were now currently standing in front of a solid grey building. It was located in a lesser known part of the city that could only be labeled as, once again 'sketchy'. Gilbert was only going to take Antonio but Francis insisted on seeing this 'job'. Antonio on the other hand was still completely oblivious to what the job actually was. He assumed from Gilbert's excitement that it was something worth doing let alone make a fuss about. The cold chill of the fog kept alive energy to the atmosphere. Francis took a look away from the building, on porches across the street were elderly people smoking and playing mahjong. The street was practically empty but had plenty of garbage to confirm that the area became busy at some time of the day. Above, in a window was a sign that said: Who would jesus bomb?

No doubt this was a 'sketchy' neighborhood where 'sketchy' things went down and yet Antonio was smiling at the front door to a concrete building as if he was about to walk into his own surprise party.

Gilbert shuffled his feet from side to side in order to warm up his body."Alright listen up!" Gilbert started.

"This is a big day for our Tony so keep it cool! Francy**, **don't go flirting around with _anyone _here!" he said quick and to the point like they were on an actual mission.

"Sure sure open the door now!" Antonio dismissed.

Gilbert opened the door a gust of air rushed into the building.

"Que guay!"

Gilbert gave a toothy grin. Antonio scanned the room. The place literally looked like something out of a Tarantino movie testosterone, spit and all. Definitely not the most classiest of places. The windows were high up towards the ceiling with metal bars covering them.

It looked like a gym.

Rows of working equipment and deadlifts filled the floor. Four boxing rings, all in use, took up a large portion of the back, which was certainly a bit unusual for a gym. One would be enough, four was excessive. It was a bit hard to hear over the sound of the rowdy men and metal equipment being moved up and down. Francis tilted his head towards his two friends. Antonio was practically drooling at the sight.

"Jesus it looks like someone could have died here" Francis voiced, sounding a little amazed.

"Its fucking amazing right!?" Gilbert couldn't contain himself any longer. Antonio snapped his head to Gilbert showing off his ridiculously happy smile and shook his head up and down fiercely. They started giggling at each other like school kids.

"Hey, Gil is Yao in?" An incredibly deep voice cut in.

Gilbert and Antonio instantly stood up and tried to look 'cool'. Gilbert almost whacked Antonio in the process, the two settled on leaning against the wall with their arms crossed.

"Yeah he's here. I hear he's looking for new roster fighters. Think he's gonna have another competition soon." Gilbert smoothly uncrossed his arms with a smile.

"Oh really? Thanks man I really appreciate the heads up" and the man walked away, displaying a large back tattoo of a dolphin choking a tiger.

Antonio immediately turned to Gilbert. He buzzed with excitement "You got me a job at a gym! This is great I love it." he looked around for a manager of some sort

"Am I going to be a trainer or something?" he smiled green eyes shining brightly.

Then he heard Gilbert sucking air between his teeth and turned around.

"We'll not exactly.." Gilbert started leading them out of the floor and towards a long narrow hallway.

"Que?"

The trio stood huddled together in the hallway now. Francis looked at Gilbert skeptically "Is this a-?"

"Maybe?"Gilbert gave a weak smile and caved his shoulder in like a child that just got caught doing something bad by a parent.

"_Really_?" Francis scolded. With all of Gilbert's good looks Francis could imagine a hundred better things he could be doing. If only it weren't for that loose screw… that always managed to get him into things like this.

"Oh come on! How could I _not_?" Gilbert snorted like a madman, further proving his point. Antonio looked at them with another blank stare.

Francis sighed deeply in understanding. Antonio tip-toed behind the two, trying to he what they were saying. Francis quickly turned around before he was able to hear anything.

"Alrighty, Antonio do you remember how to box at least?" He said accepting his friends fate.

"Wha-?"

"OI! Gilbert where's that new fighter? Is this him!" A stern voice yelled from in front of them. Walking towards them was a man with long dark hair braided into a ponytail holding a file. He stopped midway at a door, opened it and went inside. The man poked his head out the door, "Bring him to the back, hurry up or this will take forever!" he shouted.

"Is that my boss?" Antonio broke the silence.

"I guess you could say that." Gilbert replied putting a hand on Antonio's shoulder. "Come on friend we should get you settled in." Francis said walking forward.

"Uh okay.."

Antonio took a glance down the hall one more time, his eyes fell upon the boxing rings in particularly at the guys beating the shit out of each other-on purpose. _Well this can't be that bad right? _Antonio followed behind Gilbert into the office that contained his new boss and future job. He was never one to complain anyway.

Antonio's boss-whose name turned out to be 'Yao' kept his office fairly neat and tidy. In other words it made Antonio nervous and a little itchy. He felt like he'd probably tip over one of the towers of paperwork at any minute. Yao stood behind his desk now peering into a drawer and then taking out an unlabeled manila folder.

"Okay so im going to need your address criminal history and list of any medical conditions records. Carr-ee-Doh right?" he mispronounced.

"How do you spell that." Yao asked opening the folder and sitting down. He gestured to an assistant with a bowl cut and camera hanging from his neck to come forward. The assistant raised his camera then clicked the shutter creating a blinding flash that left Antonio disoriented for few moments.

"Uh I didn't bring any.." _actually I don't remember Gilbert telling me to bring anything._ "Right of course! Don't sweat man got it all here."jumped in Gilbert. Gilbert stuck his hand down his backpack, moved it around a short while before finally taking out a neat stack of papers containing information of Antonio that only his own mother should have. "How'd you get-"

"Oh good." Yao took the papers and skimmed over them.

"Excuse me. Why do you need my medical conditions?" Antonio asked politely.

Yao sighed looking up from the sheet of paper he was filling out. "Well there's no way i'm gonna be letting a schizophrenic in the ring." He returned his attention back to the paper.

"How long have you wanted to be a fighter?" Yao asked.

"Wha-?"

.

.

.

_Ohhhh_

It was in that question that Antonio connected all the dots and fully understood what he would really be doing. The same connection that people make through flashbacks and if in plays-musical numbers. Though in this case a flashback was what brought Antonio to full understanding. When he still lived in the states Gilbert Francis and himself decided to join their high school boxing team. Of course it wasn't exactly his idea to join, in fact Francis was the one to persuade him to join the two. There was a great possibility that Francis only did so because of Antonios self admitted anger issues. It wasn't that he was a violent person per say but that he had a hard time dealing with his anger. When Antonio would feel angry in any way he'd bottle it up until it exploded into some violent mannerism. So naturally when Gilbert and Francis saw Antonio beat the shit out of someone for the first time they felt that boxing could be a great outlet for the usually gentle natured guy. Also Gilbert may or may not have been really eager to start boxing after watching Fight Club several times in a row. Antonio could remember how great of an outlet boxing was for him in highschool, he never really did find another substitute when he moved back to Spain. He couldn't even be upset that Gilbert had set him up for a job like this without his permission, which surprised himself and probably Francis too considering the face he gave when he said "U-uh years! I just moved back here from Spain just to fight. I love it!" Gilbert looked to Antonio, surprised that he was able to play into it convincingly. _Well maybe he came across a tad bit cheesy._

"Oh and you spell my last name C-A-R-R-I-E-D-O" He said with a charming smile.

Yao sat back comfortably in his chair

''Spain? Well that's great the audience loves betting on someone from home ground. It's like the world cup in here."

Yao stood up and walked to the back of the room and exchanged some words between his assistant Kiku. Antonio glanced at Francis and Gilbert, as if asking _is that good? _They both promptly raised their hands with a thumbs up.

"Okay this will allow you to move around the building on fight nights, if the police ever raid here you blame it on a guy named Andrew**.**" Kiku passed him a laminated card with his name and picture.

"Andrew...right."

"Gilbert can help you get a locker and some gloves." Yao waved them off." Have a good day ." Kiku said as the trio walked out the door.

"Well right off the bat i'd like to say that I feel unclean and little scared but I also feel so freaking COOL." Antonio hugged Gilbert tightly. Francis couldn't help but laugh too.

"Just wait until you see the back!"

"Don't get him too excited mon ami."

The whole locker room was grimy and Francis could have sworn that there were old blood stains, regardless Antonio was a happy boy. He picked his locker while Gilbert told him about how he'd basically be competing in an 'regularly competing boxing association' and that the whole thing truly was as big of a hype as the world cup(to anyone who knew of course). Antonio couldn't wait to meet the other fighters but was honestly not too happy to fight anyone that might be a good friend to him. Francis reassured him that most of the fighters were probably gonna be dicks and that it would be easier to fight them if he thought of it that way.

"Wanna meet some fighters? Maybe even practice" asked Gilbert. They were coming back from the lockers and were close to the 'gym' area again."Sure! That sounds great." Antonio quickened his paced, wanting to see what the rest of the building looked like thoroughly. Shouting caught their attention almost immediately. It wasn't the type of shouting you hear for help, more like whooping and hollering. The sound of a crowd forming in one place.

In one ring were two guys clearly at the end of a fight. One on the ground the other standing up breathing heavily.

Antonio watched intently as the trio slowly walked towards the ring for a closer look. Gilbert tapped a lanky blond guy on the shoulder

"Hey Matthew what's going on?" Matthew turned around and said in a hushed voice "I think some new guy tried taking the ring from Lovino while he was trying to practice. The guy got real wordy and said to fight 'em for it".

"Get outta here!" was heard followed by a thud. "Anyone else needs THIS ring?"

Antonio who did not hear anything Matthew said watched as the crowd parted enough for him to see who exactly was standing. He was more than taken aback. The guy stood in the ring with so much confidence, his eyebrows were pinched with irritation. Captivating in his own eyes..._wait i've seen that curl before_ it was a noticeably different curl that he's only seen on one person, certainly not a distinction that everyone has.

"IS THAT FELICIANO?"He finally asked... loudly.

"And who the fuck are you?" The guy turned on him now, his voice was strong and course. Members of the gym began 'oo'ing.

"Oh god Antonio." he heard Francis murmur behind him. _Not Feliciano?_ "U-uh doesn't Feliciano have a sister?" he responded thinking out loud.

.

There's a turning moment of regret that you recognize just before a fight begins. It's that sinking feeling in your lower abdomen that tells you 'I shouldn't have done that'.

"Get in here."he had a bit of an accent.

"What?" Antonio looked to Gilbert and Francis for help. Gilbert shrugged at a lost and Francis rubbed his shoulder like it was sore with a reminiscent face. A few people shoved him forward bringing him closer to the ropes.

"okay." he said surprising himself for the second time that day. He climbed into the ring and realized that this guy was smaller than he was. In fact he looked almost exactly like Feliciano, maybe not as scrawny-more lithe but definitely had the same soft delicate features in his face, his eyes were a noteworthy golden brown. This guy looked like he could hold his own well but from stealth and strength in the right areas rather than pure muscle. He could take him on-right?

"_Do I look like a 'sister' to you?_" the guy seethed. Well Antonio did think he had a cute face, _look at those eyes, you know what? He's pretty fucking ho-_

A fist connected directly to his face and boy did it hurt, immediately afterward another one jabbed him harshly in the abdomen, bringing him to the ground. He coughed in pain and wrapped his arms around his torso, not able to think. He hadn't been hit like this since high school maybe he was too inexperienced to fight he thought. "Get up and fight Antonio!" Gilbert's voice managed to be heard over the laughter of how poorly he went down. Racking his own brain for information he found a memory reach him. It was a dirty move that Gilbert had done to him before, he was all for fair fighting but in this case he'd get his ass kicked before even landing a punch. Antonio looked above him and watched the man smaller than himself walk closer to him. Antonio abruptly kicked out his legs sweeping it under the other guy's feet, causing him to trip and fall unceremoniously, taking everyone aback. He then took the opportunity to grapple him into a reversal.

"W-what the _fuck_, get off of me!" yelled out the look-a-like.

"Haha! Lovino just got took down!" A random person shouted out. Antonio stared down at the guy, whose face burned with great irritation and...embarrassment?

.

.

.

"NO NEED TO FEAR YOUR HERO IS HERE!" bellowed a glasses wearing blonde man from the entrance, effectively gaining most of the crowds attention.

'Alfred!'

'where've you been?'

'who the hell wants to fight the hero!'

laughter and movement followed.

'Lovino' shoved him off harshly and stepped out of the ring quickly, making for the locker rooms probably.

"You should get out now, Toni." called out Francis. The crowd dispersed and went back to their individual exercises now that the action was seemingly gone. Matthew disappeared as well leaving the trio in front of an empty boxing ring. Antonio picked himself up and stepped out of the platform.

"So who was that?" He asked rubbing his stomach.

Gilbert pinched the bridge of his nose.

.

.

"Your neighbor, dumbass."


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own Hetalia.

Feliciano wasn't one to speak badly about his family but he'd definitely do it in his head. He was also taught to never curse so often, a habit that grandpa reprimanded. Right now he didn't really give a shit, Romano was being pissy. Feliciano could only some up his older brother- who was a respectable figure to an extent. And as protective and usually practical( maybe not practical, in fact he usually let his emotions get the best of him and as a result freak out) as his brother was he could only sum him up in this moment as being 'pissy'. Feliciano's brother had came home unusually early yesterday night which was the first sign to anything being off. Then Romano immediately compiled a group of dirty _and_ clean clothes together into a bag and took off without a word besides saying that he wanted to do laundry-this was the second sign, _considering_ _that Romano has never touched a laundry_ _machine_. When Romano didn't come back for an hour Feliciano went to the laundry room to check on him. What Feliciano found was a bag of still uncleaned clothes lying near the the washing machines with his brother nowhere in sight. That was the final confirmation. Romano was is in a pissy mood.

"Did something happen?" he later asked. Romano was watching dramatic cop shows, completely engrossed in whatever was happening on screen and sinking into the living room couch.

Romano sighed irritably and dismissed him with a tired wave of the hand while mumbling something about if the mom ended up being the killer that he'd punch the shit out of Francis. Feliciano in concern for his brother and greater curiosity for his neighbors name being dropped, made a note to visit the frenchman later that day. It didn't come to much of a surprise that their neighbor might be involved in whatever was making Romano so mad. Francis did have a way to make people's blood boil, Arthur could testify to that. Feliciano went into the kitchen and pulled out some leftover wine from the brothers last misadventure. He could still hear the T.V blaring. Feliciano's head poked from the doorway to glance at his brother-who was still as silent as ever. He looked down at the half-full bottle and sighed, exhausted from his school work. He wondered whatever happened to the blond at the cornerstore briefly. Maybe he got fired, would he be able to recognize him if he ever saw him again?...Would he want to strangle him? Or just call the police..Since it was obvious that Romano was not going to be leaving the T.V anytime soon he took the chair next to him and to watch the show as well.

The little story of Gilbert's liquor store was a personal one with much sentiment involved. Gilbert's family became owners of the liquor store on Third and West about ten years ago. On weekdays the trio would hang out at the store once school was over. Of course on the bus ride over they would stop and cause trouble whenever they saw fit. What made the store special was that it was common ground, like a meet up. If the three ever got separated-they'd meet at the liquor store. If they ever needed a place to talk seriously-they'd meet at the liquor store. If the three just wanted to get out if their homes and away from everything-they'd meet at the liquor store. Different from other corner stores, Gilbert's home was not attached to the storefront. Instead the Bealshmits lived in an apartment on twelfth street and would wake early in the morning to run business. This meant that young Gilbert would take the store key on late night rendezvous. One of Antonio's favourite memories was waking up at one in the morning to meet Francis and Gilbert at the store. It was the fourth of Jul-

"Hey how about we get a drink later to celebrate Tony's new job." Gilbert stretched his arms over his head. Antonio and Francis were lying lazily against each other under the protection of a blanket. "Hmm sounds good!" Antonio poked his mouth up from under the covers. "I could use a drink" he said with a cheeky smile.

.

.

.

approximately 10 years ago…

* * *

Drink. That's what the trio did that fourth of July. The language immersion school that the three went to was near a local high school. City kids were cruel or more accurately a recurring group of four boys. They would linger near the bus stop and confuse the classmen that didn't know English well enough yet. That evening of the fourth of July the same group of kids came up to the trio and began taunting them-about the fourth of July. They said something along the lines of 'you don't belong in this country'. Little did they know, the trio were fairly fluent at this point. The three troublemakers gave them a sound beating in return for said comments. So the following night the friends met up at the liquor store for their own celebration. It was the first time that any of them had ever gotten drunk. Gilbert certainly knew what to drink and what not to.

The three became hopelessly drunk that night, neither one of them knew how much was 'enough' to get them fucked up. By the end of the night they finished a pack of Guinness and two bottles of jack. Their parents were pissed for sure but it was without a doubt worth it. Much time had passed since then. Gilbert's parents retired and moved back to Germany. Gilbert and Ludwig stayed behind in the city since he was old enough to take care of them both.

He made sure to keep the store up and running.

.

.

.

Antonio looked up to Francis from the couch, who was stretching his arms lazily. Gilbert gathered his things and soon enough was agreeing to meet up for the drink.

He exchanged goodbyes and was out the door.

* * *

.

.

.

Romano was still lying in the couch staring at the T.V. He wasn't really watching the show, he was just trying to maintain a calm demeanour. Well Romano _was_ mad and he wasn't going to deny it either. Yes he had a violent temper but that didn't mean he was gonna go off and beat the first person that looked at him funny. Of course anyone who knew Romano had all the reason to think such a thing. The fact that a good chunk of the neighborhood had common knowledge of his 'job' did not help lighten the bias against him either. Romano honestly couldn't help it sometimes. When he would get mad it's not like he would actually stop and think about what he was going to do. Romano would just _do. _The result would usually be items thrown around, a kicked wall, him leaving all together,..or someones feelings hurt. It was terrible when Romano accidentally said something too honest or too brutal towards someone in the heat of the moment. Not many people besides Grandpa and Feliciano could understand that whatever words were spilled, truly were unintended. Above all the absolute worst thing Romano could do to make him angrier-was exactly what he was doing now. It was when he couldn't _do_ anything about it. That dick publicly mocked him, and he fucking tripped him in order to win. To Romano that spelled out; shady, cocky, and above all stupid amuater who thinks he's a step up the competition. Romano couldn't care less for the guy but that all changed when the asshole mentioned his _brother_. After that Romano saw Francis and Gilbert watching from the bottom of the ring. Then he knew for certain that if this guy was with _them, _then it most certainly meant that he was an asshole too. After he sent the guy to the floor he didn't think that he would get up. Once you hit the floor its over! Your not suppose to engage again; it doesn't fucking work like that. Romano hated that he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't just yell at Feliciano and expect to feel better. No, he needed to take it out on _that asshole, _whatever his name was. Romano sighed deeply, shaking off his thoughts. He got up and poured himself a glass of water. It's not like he was going to stay pissed off forever. He set his glass down on the counter, taking notice of his Grandpa's car key's hanging by the door.

.

.

.

.

.

The car was an old model with a dark coat of green paint. Romano's phone had about six unread text messages, around four missed calls, and two voicemails. He looked at his phone and almost snorted, most of them were from Grandpa. Still, Romano sped down the highway with speed of an ambulance. He didn't dislike his Grandfather which was something people often misunderstood. To keep things short and concise you could say that Romano's grandfather always managed to make him 'feel' things. Hell the man could bring Romano to tears if he tried and that was _exactly_ why he couldn't be around him for more than a day. There was just too much history-they were family and family always made things hurt a whole lot worse. Romano decided to go on a drive to burn off steam, though he failed to inform the owner of the car. So here he was driving along the highway with no destination in his mind besides 'far'. Romano knew he was on the otherside of town because he passed the city college and was taking an alternative route instead of the bay bridge. He rolled the window, there was a funky smell. Then he heard sputtering, not just any sputtering; Romano's car was sputtering. Well that's definitely not what he wanted.

"No.. .." he pulled over to the shoulder as the car slowed to a stop. Romano got out and opened up the hood of the car, hoping that something obviously wrong would present itself.

Of course he didn't have a clue what to do. So he stuck his hand abruptly into the mess of wires and metal gears.

"Fuck!"

Something had either burned, shocked, or scratched him but damn did it hurt. Romano looked around him. Why hadn't he just taken the bridge? At least _someone_ would know that his car broke down-well technically it wasn't his car. Romano cursed again and kicked dirt while rubbing his shoulders in attempt to stay warmer.

The stretch of road was practically empty. Like hell he'd call Grandpa..and Feliciano couldn't drive...

.

.

.

.

"Fuck!"

_I'm screwed_.


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own hetalia

Romano waited for a good hour. He leaned against the old car peacefully, hoping to flag down a passing vehicle. There's no way that someone wouldn't stop to help. He had hope in humanity and all that jazz. I mean if _he_ had been driving down the road and saw someone with a broken down car, he'd totally help.

Jesus Christ of course he would'nt. The only person dumb enough to pick up a hitchhiker at night is the Scooby gang. Trees tinted a blue black didn't lighten the mood either, road gravel illuminated to dull red by the cars blinker had Romano thinking of the My Bloody Valentines day massacre.

He shivered If anything he'd just sleep in the car until morning. The fighter thought all these positive thoughts-before losing his temper. Romano's eyes snapped impatiently down to the watch on his wrist. What he felt was an hour had only been twelve minutes. More than irritated he pushed himself away from the hunk of metal. The weather fortunately did not turn into rain like the news said, in fact the opposite. Wind became warm and humid and soft cotton turned moist and clung to his back and underarms. Romano was starting to feel gross. He tugged at the door handle but it didn't budge, it clicked as if something was stuck. He tried again and then again, and one more time on the passengers door.

"..The hell.."

Romano cupped his hands around his eyes and pressed against the window glass, fearing the worst. "Are you kidding me...?" He whispered. Inside he was barely able to make out his keys hanging in the ignition. The little Italian flag key-chain silently hung, mocking Romano. He gave out an extremely frustrated sigh and began to roughly take off his jacket. Romano wrapped the coat around his waist tightly, leaving him in his plain white t-shirt. He ran a hand through his hair roughly and thought. Feliciano would be home by now but what could he do? It's not like he could drive and pick him up and even if he did call Feliciano would just tell grandpa. No way was he gonna get into another argument with him. His phone was in the car anyway which left Romano next to nothing. He checked his watch again, it had only been ten minutes since he last checked. Once again he was leaning against the car in an empty road but now beginning to sweat at the neck from the heat. Silence only lasted a few moments before Romano heard rustling in the bushes. He tried to ignore it, chalking it up to the wind.

Wait.

There was no wind, there hadn't been any since the heat began to stir up. So what was the noise coming from...The teen did slightest turn of the head in the direction of the noise. In that movement Romano thought he could hear the smallest sound of words.

Silence.

And more rustling. Why was it that when you're scared you hear shit that you hadn't heard before? He listen again but was answered with more silence...and then a rustling. Romano tried to focus on the sound again but then a grey car coming up fast was driving up the road.

He jumped out of his skin at the noise. Fuck the rustling now was his chance to catch a ride.

"Hey!" his deep voice echoed.

The car was going too fast, no sign of slowing down. Absolutely no way that they couldn't see him. Romano started waving his arms as the car passed. "Hey! Stop!"

Jesus Christ the car was completely passing him wasn't it?

"Stop!" He shouted louder than before. There was no use the car was gone, along with all hope of getting out of this sooner.

"Fucking, asshole!"

Silence returned once more. The sting of yelling made his throat throb. Complete quiet once more as the car motor faded- the seething teen was about to curse once more until a loud thud sounded from the same direction from earlier. Romano flinched.

_Hell no_.

Then he bolted down the shoulder of the road.

.

.

.

* * *

Antonio was driving for groceries. Francis didn't really have a good selection of 'real' food. The fridge looked like a child went grocery shopping, it consisted of bright pink yogurt, mustard, and beer...well maybe not a child. Some cereal every once in awhile would be nice or at least eggs. So he set off in search of food along with the goal to reacquaint himself with the city. Antonio hadn't lived there for quite some time and the place had most definitely changed. It wasn't entirely different which he appreciated but it would be a lie for him to say that he had no idea where he was. Though Antonio always did have a tendency to get lost, he remembered getting mixed up on the bus routes when he was younger. Right now he was reliving the experience all over again. Sure he knew that he was still in the city, the far end at least. Antonio was going to stop for directions but he trusted himself to get back to the apartment on his own. He had borrowed Francis car and would hate to not return it on time. Antonio and Francis did still plan on taking Gilbert out for a drink after cars clock read around eight which meant he had been lost for a good twenty minutes. Antonio glanced at the gas tank symbol and realized to his dismay that the gas was on low-very low. Well he was in a predicament. Antonio stepped on the brake hoping that he'd make it to the station on time. He noticed a person yelling on the shoulder of the road. Certainly not towards him, right? It wouldn't be surprising there were a lot of nuts in this city.

.

.

.

Antonio pulled over at the closest gas station he could find. He hummed a tune as he got out of the car and walked towards the little mini-mart extension. Antonio browsed the snack section for some time before picking a small packet of pistachios and juice.

"Can the owner of the grey Sudan please come to the front. "A lazy voice called from the stores overhead speakers. Antonio walked to the front register and was met with a white man in dreadlocks playing a gameboy.

"Uh dude. Someone's keying your car man." He said without looking up pointed a finger to a figure outside. Well that was a weird thing to say maybe it was a different car but the same model, it wouldn't be surprising if that was the ca-

Antonio turned a head towards the window.

"dios mio..." There was in fact a person outside. And the person was dragging a stick across his car. Yes, this person was indeed 'keying' his car.

"Thank you!" He said quickly and fumbled out a few bills from his pocket and slapping them on the counter then running out the door.

"...yea sure your welcome, whatever you're already gone." The man mumbled bitterly still engrossed in his game.

Antonio ran towards the car waving his arms "What are you doing!" The guy didn't show any sign of slowing down, he was occupied with what he was doing. It was only when Antonio got a better look in the light that he realized who the person was.

"Romano?" He asked doubtfully.

Romano's head perked up obviously confused to having someone randomly calling his name.

"Are you okay?" Antonio noticed that Romano did not look like he was in the best shape. He looked sweaty and had a flush to his face as if he had just been running. Romano had an undoubtedly pissed off expression settled over his face. Antonio was beginning to feel the same way he had felt when he first saw him. The same steady stream of aggression that seemed to flow from him was still there. Even when he was vandalizing someone elses property Romano still managed to emanate an era of complete justification for his actions. Not to mention that his shirt was clinging to his body, honestly, he wasn't trying to sound like a pig or anything but hot da-

"Who are you?" Romano squinted trying to see through the dim light. "Do I know you?" He took a step forward. Automatically Antonio took a step back, not yet ready for Romano to realize that he wasn't fond of the person in front of him. Why did he look so tired looking? Antonio would have asked.

When he didn't say anything Romano gave him a judgmental look, dropped his stick and started to leave. Probably because he didn't want anyone to see what he had done to the car. The space between them was significantly bigger now.

"Wait! Um.. do you remember me?" Antonio asked pointing a finger at his face and stepping further into the light. He gave what he felt was a friendly smile. Romano's face dropped into more or less a scowl and shoved his hands into his front pant pockets.

"Oh it's you." He said harshly. And another awkward quiet settled between the two.

Romano's face turned just a tad shade darker, if he hadn't been in such a bright light he wouldn't have noticed at all. "You wouldn't by any chance know about cars?" Romano asked in a much nicer tone than he had spoke before. Antonio skipped a beat hearing him, he didn't expect Romano to say that at all, let alone so kindly. His mind drew a blank and the teen must have mistook it as something else because he tsked abruptly. "You know what nevermind forget it." And began walking away again.

"No wait!" Antonio walked quickly, closing the gap. He grabbed Romano's shoulder, turning him around. Romano gave a disgruntled look at the hand on his shoulder. The look made Antonio immediately pulled his hand away like it hand been burned. He just wanted to talk to him, Antonio didn't want the fight to be their only history together. He at least wanted to remove any bad blood.

"I do know about cars! I'd be happy to give you a ride!" He gave a bright grin more genuine than before. Romano looked surprised and then back to irritated. The steady flow of aggression came back and Antonio was beginning to wonder why. Though he somewhat appreciated how naturally Romano wore it. Like, how does 'pissed off' even become someones go to face?

"Thank God. My car broke down and I was trying to pull over that guy" he pointed at his car. "but the dick completely passed me!" Antonio glanced at his car with wide eyes. Rapid guilt filled his body, he had no idea. No doubt he would have stopped if he'd known. Completely excusable.

"If I ever saw that guy I'd sock him." He deadpanned. "Which ones your car?"

oh god.

Antonio stopped and tapped Romano's shoulder "Romano?...that's my car. Well technically I'm borrowing it from my roommate."

Antonio shut his eyes, anticipating impact. He still remembered how bad the last one hurt. Maybe it wouldn't be so painful this time, at least he knew it was coming. Wait he didn't feel anything. Was his face already numb? Damn he was losing his touch. No that doesn't make sense, he would have felt it! When nothing made contact he opened one eye and then the other. He half expecting to see the fist in front of his face instead Romano was fidgeting with his watch.

"Wow uhh..what an asshole...but I mean I guess it's fine since you're gonna help... right?" Antonio stared at him.

"The branch wasn't that sharp okay?" He finished lamely. Antonio got a better look at Romano's face and saw that he was progressively getting redder. Antonio realized that he was probably referring to the car."You can't even see the scratch if you like..I don't know!..cover it with paint?"It sounded like the closest thing to an apology that he could muster without saying 'sorry'.

"Don't worry Roma I'll still help you!" Antonio reassured sweetly and laughed as he fished his car keys out his pocket.

"Roma. What the fuc-? I dont even know your name." Romano said immediately going back to his defenses.

Antonio walked over to the drivers side of his car and unlocked the door. "Oh sorry!" He stood up tall and dramatically took a bow swooping one arm over his chest. "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo here to assist!"

Romano looked at him blankly then covered his face with the palm of his hand.

"You look stupid. " he opened the door and went inside.

Antonio blinked twice "Well, alrighty."

.

.

.

The two young men drove a short ways down the road. They (and by 'they' that meant Antonio) fixed the broken down car with quick work of some spark plugs. Antonio was happy to see Romano reunited with his vehicle. He watched as the dark-brunet climbed in and scanned his phone.

"Looks like someone noticed you were gone." he could see a large amount of missed alerts fill the screen.

"It's fine, nothing worth bothering about." Romano pulled the seat belt strap over his torso, the quick clip of the strap sounded loud compared to the quietness between the pair.

"I guess I'll see you later." Romano just wanted to leave. He already felt like an idiot for all the trouble. Plus he was never good at 'goodbyes' let alone thank you's. Especially when the person was staring at you so intently without a word and smiling for no particular reason. He barely realized that he had began tapping impatiently on the steering wheel with his finger. Shit, he didn't want come across as an asshole after Antonio helped him. But then again it's not his job to worry about how he was treating him, it was Antonio"s choice to help anyway, right? What did he expect. Him to be grateful and see him as a great man? No. Screw him, he's not special. He helped him get into his car, not save a fucking baby. And he was still smiling!

Romano turned his head and glared at him directly through the open window frame.

"Do you need something stop fucking staring at m-"

"Here you go." Antonio was handing him a phone. Wait it was _his_ phone. On the screen was a new contact named Antonio with a smiley face next to it.

"Haha! Roma your face looks so funny. Now you have my number for next time!"

He did not have a funny face. "What next time? Don't just go around taking people's stuff, asshole." Romano scolded. He was pretty sure that 'next time' was something he didn't want to be apart of.

"I think we got off on a bad foot. Saturday was really hectic and I wasn't sure what I was doing. The whole fighting thing is new for me. Hey! You could help me practice. We should hangout sometime! We could go ice-skat- well maybe not that, it's a little early for that. It's no where near Christmas!But I know a-"

Antonio's words came out in a jumble, making his accent thicker, which also tended to happen when he was nervous. Fortunately he was interrupted by his own cell phone. Francis was calling. That's right he had been out for a while now. Probably calling about where he was. He'd better get going if he wanted a chance at parking.

Antonio turned his attention back to Romano, who was already busy turning on his car.

He took that as his cue to also head home as well. He quickly walked away and started his car, pulled out from the space directly behind Romano's. Before leaving Antonio drove his car parallel to the others.

"Think about it!" Antonio grinned again hoping that there was some chance that Romano would consider. Romano gave him a stiff expression and shrugged.

"Sure, whatever I'll think about it." he looked away from him, focusing on starting his own car. Antonio gave one last wave and smile then drove off.

.

.

.

* * *

In his car Romano looked down at the contact name. The little smiley face reflected back to him. Romano couldn't help but think the face was mocking.

He had a weird feeling about this.

* * *

Christ knows I haven't updated. Uh I've edited the first 4 chapters and hope you all like 'em much more. I'm going to finish this story by the end of the year or I'm a failure. Do it for Shakur.


	6. Chapter 6

I do not own Hetalia

"My babies!"

The strong wooden bang of the door opening awoke the two brothers with the same shock equivalent to a baby shooting it's mother. Grandpa gripped the white sheets of his grandson's blankets, fiercely pulling them back and dropping them on the floor. Romano curled inward with one hand stretched out, searching for the warm plush cloth. Feliciano got up and quickly ran to Romano's bed, hugging his elder brothers back tightly. In this rare moment the brothers were basically creating a makeshift blanket out of one another that would essentially be called snuggling.

Grandpa grunted in retaliation with the knowledge that his kin would not move without some other motivation.

"Avete paura dell'uomo nero!" old wood creaked as Grandpa ran back into the room, a large basket in tow.

"Wake up!" 'Ve's' came out in half screams.

"What the hell is this!" Romano sat upright and patted down his body fiercely. Small green 'somethings' tumbled across his body, some of them were wet. Feliciano picked up one of the many green sticks that had managed to attach to his t-shirt. "Are these rose stems?" he asked his voice sounded raspy and showed just how tired he was.

"Si, I'm making corsages for the churches choir concert." Romano felt a small chill, instinctively he rubbed his hands up and down his upper arms. The window indicated that it was much much earlier in the morning than what he had hoped. It was still dark and the morning fog was coming out thick today, the window had a good coat of water on it. Feliciano was continued listening to Grandpa's good morning speech. "Nonno im sure tha-"

"Ow! fuck." what did he just touch? One of the smaller stems were lodged at the base of his palm.

"Language Roma. Its a shame, you two are the essence of my heart and soul! Yet you still degrade your mouths with.." Romano gripped the top of the stem firmly and pulled back. A small bead of blood protruded from his skin before blossoming and spilling over, staining his white-t. "What the fuck. These still have thorns in them! Shit it hurts."

"What did I just say Roma!" Feliciano scooted closer and gripped his hand tightly. Grandpa continued to pace, touching Feliciano's old baby blanket."Nonno!" the younger brothers eyes lit up nervously."-yes?"

"Roma are you okay?Shit this is my fault!"

"Do we have any band-aids, nonno!"

"No! I think we have alcohol wipes?"

"Fuck no! Those hurt!"

"God! You're still bleeding!"

"What! I am?!'

"What do we do!?"

"Well, we can't all freak out!"

"AHH!"

.

.

.

Once Grandpa had left, it was beyond hope to think that he could go back to sleep. Feliciano would usually tag along with Romano to 'Franks Gymnasium' aka the arena slash tax fraud office slash rent-a-lawyer hookup spot(but only on Friday's). They were up early enough for Franks to be open and Romano was sure that Feliciano wouldn't mind. Also ever since Romano found out that Antonio was actually living in the same building, he had been avoiding him by leaving at an earlier time every day.

The floor of the kitchen was very cold against the teens feet and he had to keep rotating them in order to not feel the full effect. Feliciano leaned against the sink, causing a few dishes to clank together.

"hmm we should really get around to doing these huh?". The older brother opened the fridge door, scanning for juice but seeing none."I'm not doing it, Feli. If that's what you're asking." A raisin hit his ear.

"huh?" Romano turned around. It was so strange how easy it would be to confuse the two for each other. They weren't twins but they might as well be. The day Romano came back from the hospital their parents must have been really happy because a month later their mother was pregnant, again. How is that even possible. To make it even freakier Feliciano was born the day before his birthday. When Feliciano turned out to be the exact same weight at birth that he was, the doctors could only call it a medical anomaly. As they grew up they shared birthday's since it was practically the same day anyway. He wasn't bitter about it, Romano loved his brother at heart. Looking at the two now, you could still see how confusing it must be for a parent to recognize the two. Especially since right now they were both wearing white-t's and grey boxers, wow they hadn't even planned that. There were differences and Grandpa knew them all but that didn't mean others did, at times Romano wished he could just point them out on introduction. Feliciano had lighter more reddish hues to his hair, while his own hair was dark, either way both were shades of brown. Now while the younger had brown eyes that were dark and rich, Romano had toastier, golden ones.

Both had some part of their hair that would never go straight or in other words 'curls'. Both same height. I guess the best way to tell them apart was how they parted their hair...Romano didn't know how he felt about that. Here in the kitchen they looked like two half's of the same person at a crossroads about to duel it out. A fight to the finish. Feliciano held another rasin to his mouth."I was gonna suggest baking something. That way we can also wash some dishes in the process" he said with a light smile. Romano smiled back.

"That sounds good."

.

.

.

.

About forty minutes prior to two italian brothers being awaken by their Grandfather, Gilbert was driving with his little brother, Ludwig, currently accompanying him in the passenger seat.

"The sun'll come out tomorrow! tomorrow! Take it away Wes!" Gilbert gestured one jazz hand in Ludwig's direction. The more mature of the pair stared blankly at the city's scenery, thinking regrettably about not actively getting a drivers license. Feeling rejected in his attempts to connect with his icy brother, Gilbert placed his hand back on the wheel. "What's up Ludy? You've been all mopy since the weekend. Anything happen?"

He turned down the soundtrack to hear. "Is it the weather? I know it sucks." That was true, the sky had been in a state of limbo. If it wasn't foggy it was windy beyond all reason, only coats and hats could be seen occupying the sidewalks. Ludwig reached into his backpack, picking up a travel size tube of hair gel. He squirted some on his fingers before racking his hand through his hair, being sure to pick up the smaller strands as well. He purposefully tried to avoid mentioning the incident from last friday, wanting to avoid humiliation. Plus, not much had been taken and he didn't want Gilbert to think that he couldn't handle shifts at the store, which was pointless considering that he wouldn't be working there anymore. Gilbert was taking him to his latest job, in a nutshell-fightclub. He'd be doing office work but mostly handling the various finances that went through Franks Gymnasium. It wouldn't be difficult considering that he was a minoring in business.

"I'm fine. Just a lot of schoolwork lately." He lied lightly.

Ludwig was a hard worker even when they were both still little, he seemed to have an independance about him. Not that Gilbert wasn't independent, his personality screamed independence. But with Ludwig there was a certain self-discipline and awareness that was striking.

The car slowed down in front of a bus stop. Gilbert rolled down his window and stuck his hand out, waving it."Tony we're here!"

Antonio opened the backdoor of the car, allowing a gust of cool wind inside.

"You're too cool for me, brr." Even though he was out of the morning frost it was almost as though the fog caught onto his windbreaker. The hoodie hidden beneath was saving the heat from escaping his body.

"Are you ready!" He grinned.

Gilbert began to pull out onto the street again "Ready to clean? Not particularly ." Due to too many 'sick' days the eccentric had exceeded his limit of patience that Yao had reserved for him, which wasn't much. To make those hours up Yao scheduled days for him to come in and clean. One can only imagine how a gym -that has no hired janitors will look like in the morning after a days full use. No, what Antonio was excited about was the chance to make friends with Romano, who after a few days of going to Franks realized that the brunette shows up rather early than most. He hadn't talked to him since helping him out with his car. You'd think that living in the same boarding house would gain access to conversation; wrong. It was almost as if he was avoiding him. All the more challenge, admittedly Antonio had a bit of a history with chasing after people that played hard to get. Except this time there was no 'playing', Romano was just hard. Wait not like that type of hard, not like hard hard. Fuck that's not what he meant at all.

"Tony?~"

"Cleaning's my form of giving back to the community!' Antonio leaned back in his seat. Gilbert fiddled with the cars heater. "Even if that community is full of criminals in shorts and gloves?" He asked playfully.

"Especially" Antonio smiled.

.

.

.

Romano begrudgingly watched Feliciano's back as he stepped off the bus. "What's wrong?" The younger asked. Irritated Romano pushed passed his brother and turned the corner, leading into an ally. "What do you think?" He asked rhetorically. The teen was wearing a large black hoodie, which was one of two things that was bothering him. One was that the hoodie was large enough to make him look smaller-not a good thing if you're a fighter. The other was that there was a really red, big-ass tomato, slapped right on the front of the hoodie. Of course it was from when Feliciano took a silk screening class. In addition he was holding a tupperware box full of oatmeal cookies that the two made that morning. He envied how easily Feliciano didn't mind the clothing he wore. Though he'd rather have the tomato then Feliciano's 'BAMBINO' hoodie in bright blue. This was ridiculous, he really needed some clean clothes. Down the alley, garbage bins lined the sides of the walls, before opening up to a larger clearing. It eventually became the parking lot behind the building. "Stop bitching, Roma." Feliciano said, opening the back door.

"Ve?" Romano pointed at himself "Feli!" He couldn't help but laugh. In retrospect he wish he hadn't. Going out just as they were going in were Gilbert and Antonio holding large black plastic bags.

.

.

.

* * *

Gilbert and him had finished gathering up all the trash from the locker rooms and offices. They even had to go on a mini errand in order to have trash bags big enough to hold all of it. He didn't want to think about how dirty the gym and arena bleachers would probably be. Gilbert was having trouble finding a way to get a hand free. The door opened before he was able to find a solution.

"Feli" and then a laugh. Not a huge laugh but a light one. Antonio's own smile disappeared as he saw dark hair brown hair and then a gorgeous smile. Romano was laughing and he looked so gentle and kind. How many times had people missed the chance to see this smile because as soon as Antonio saw it, it faded away. He made eye contact with Romano and then it was gone, fast. Joy morphed into shock, as though he was caught doing something he shouldn't.

He wanted to curse because he wasn't sure when he'd see that smile again. At the pace their friendship was going at it wasn't going to be soon. Hey look at that hoodie!

"You're hoodie's adorable!" Gilbert dropped his bag of trash, crushed beer cans escaped onto the floor. Pale hands gripped the top of Romano's hood, making them look like tiny bunny ears. "Did you make these Feliciano? I want one!" Romano grunted and slapped Gilbert's hand away, his face was tinting into pink. Feliciano tugged his own hoodie, to make the 'BAMBINO' easier to read. "You like 'em! I'll bring one over next fight night for you."

Gilbert laid a hand on Feliciano's shoulder."Here I'll take you to to the office, Kiku's already here"

Antonio stared at the fellow fighter in front of him. "What's that smell?" Romano's nose wrinkled in disgust."Oh!" Antonio squeezed beside Romano, who stepped aside to avoid contact. He kicked the black trashbag outside, not bothering to take the entire thing to the dumpsters. Dumb idea because the trash went spilling everywhere on the ground."Uh.."He didn't know what to say so he just shut the back door. "Are you, like pissed or something?" Jeez now Romano was staring at him like he was broken. "No!" He said that a little loud. The brunette took a step back. "I mean, how have you been, are those cookies? Oo I didn't take you for a baker, how cute." Antonio took the box and opened them, he enjoyed the quick look of confusion splayed across the teens face. "Those arent yours, stop taking shit that's not yours, asshole." Oh yea, he was probably referring to when he gave him his phone number.

"Yea you never called me, Rominito, what gives?", Romano side stepped him and grabbed the open box of cookies. He took out one of them"Why would I have to call you? You live a floor below us. By the way you all drink way too much."

Antonio laughed at that, cause, well, its true."You really hit the truth don't you, Romano?" Romano began walking away, he didn't know why he had even bothered sticking around to talk. He had to clean out his locker anyway, plus he had to figure out his fight schedule for tomorrow. Tomorrow would be the first 'tournament' of the year and he was betting on Antonio getting eliminated first. Wait, he paused. "Don't call me Romano here!" he said turning back around, he almost bumped into Antonio, who was already following him closely. "What why not?" Green eyes met golden, questioningly. "Cause I'm not dumb enough to let a fight club, _full of criminals_, know the name I put on my medical records, not to mention my credit card, idiot." Antonio continued to stare at the cookie, his hunger getting the better of him, but only leading Romano into believing that he was just dumber than he originally thought. "Hmm what should I call you then?" He asked still eyeing the handmade cookie. The fighter tsked. "Everyone here calls me Lovino, it's my middle name. Stick to that, it's bad enough that everyone from Friday knows I have a brother. And stop looking at the cookie, it's not for you!"

"Lovi-n-oo. I like it." Antonio made another grab at the cookie, still in Romano's hand.

"What did I just say about the fucking cookies?" He said officially irritated.

The smallest of switches clicked into a mini idea that essentially turned into action for Antonio. He quickly gripped the others shoulders and Bit. That. Cookie. Wow oatmeal, it's almost like breakfast.

Romano felt hands grip his shoulders firmly, one held his hand, pulling it closer to Antonio's mouth. Fucki-, plush lips lightly brushed his fingertips for only a moment and then vanished. Romano's face skipped pink and went straight to a red.

"You didn't say I couldn't _try one_" Antonio smiled.

* * *

Avete paura dell'uomo nero is "Are you afraid of the boogeyman" and is usually called in the italians version of "Duck, duck, goose!", dell'uomo nero translates directly into 'black man' which sounds fucked up at first ('are you scared of the black man?") but has proved to be understood as the title of 'boogeyman' not 'black man' in italian. So, "dell'uomo nero"= boogeyman. This concludes my public announcement. Oh yea, comments would be great. Even the bad ones.


End file.
